


Sterner Stuff

by theunknownfate



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Gen, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunknownfate/pseuds/theunknownfate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt:<br/><i><br/>How about an AU where Comedian doesn't go all blubbering wreck over what he finds on the island? Maybe where instead of crying all over Moloch's bedside he gets mad and gets even? Does he call in an air strike on the island? Take out Bubastis with his trusty sniper rifle? Use his covert connections to drag out dirty laundry, real or fabricated? You know he has them. Let's see him use his own special skill set to save the world his way or at least keep Adrian from doing it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sterner Stuff

There had been two perfect holes in his penthouse office, one through the window, and one in the headrest of his chair. The angle was ridiculous, the investigator said. It had to have been a stray shot, fired up into the air and thank God, thank God, he had been out of the office when it happened! He had agreed as warmly as possible, had the window replaced with something bullet-proof. He had kept the chair. 

The second shot had gone into the skull of the head of the Island project. There was speculation of suicide, that the pressure of the project had finally been too much. The trouble was that it seemed to be contagious. The next night, two more scientists died, the next, one of the artists was found facedown in a puddle of her own paints. He had quelled the panic, increased security, and then five had died in front of him in the cafeteria. The water supply had been poisoned. 

He had ordered a lockdown, brought in fresh supplies, but the helicopter swooped low and crashed straight into the project. The explosion that destroyed his creation was too huge to have been anything but deliberate, and another one took out the communications center, stranding them with the saboteur until they could rig up something else. The smell of the burning creature made everyone sick, until they realized the food had been tainted too. No one else was attacked outright.

He went back to Karnak to re-evaluate the situation. He would have to start over, but he wasn't beaten. The third shot made him jump. It echoed through the stately corridors and he used every bit of his stealth and heightened senses to creep through the halls to find the shooter. All he found was Bubastis, crumpled in a heap with a hole that matched the one in his chair behind her ear. 

His security cameras had been tampered with enough for him to calculate from the missing footage where the intruder had entered, and he found a place where a small craft had landed and left. Outrage kept him from being able to think clearly. He was too livid, too grief-stricken to bring his full capabilities to bear. He stayed at Karnak because it was probably unexpected, and there was nothing to show that the killer was still there. 

When the silence began to weigh on him, he turned his TVs on, and found his own face all over them. His personal files were being taken as evidence in child exploitation charges. The same investigation had uncovered connections to money, artwork, and antiquities believed destroyed or taken by the Nazis to the items in his own collections. A pair of flamboyant and very stoned prostitutes were giving detailed accounts of what 'Mr. V' had paid them to do, and a government official behind a podium was very solemnly declaring that what had been learned of his business practices might mean charges of treason against him. 

That was when it clicked. There was only one person who could've been behind all of . He had no idea why, but it didn't matter why. The sputtering rage went still and white-hot. He got up and stalked to his private plane. He could fly it himself. 

There were so many things he was capable of. He could leave Sally's throat-cut corpse in Blake's bed. He could strangle Laurel Jane with her own mane of hair and leave her hanging from the skylight. There wasn't much else the monster might care about, but that would make an impression. Blake had been protected by the government so long he had stopped covering his own trail. He could be exposed and destroyed too. 

There were so many ways to go about it, but in the end, the purest won out. He had to disguise himself to walk through the streets to Blake's apartment building. He found the door and felt all the wrath of the last few months build until it felt like it was his anger instead of his foot that smashed into the door. The explosion that resulted also felt like an extension of that emotion, but it blew him back into the far wall. A concussive blast, his dazed mind told him, also processing the broken leg and ribs, set to go off when the door was forced. Any other thought was interrupted by the taser that sank into his throat and tore what was left of him to burning threads.

He woke up to the sound of breaking glass and a rush of cold air. He tried to look and saw the Comedian in full costume, grinning at him from the window sill before rappelling out backwards. Adrian shook his head to clear it and saw a faint red light in the shape of a three gleam from his lap. He refocused as it became a two and tore his hand from the nails pinning it to the wall over his head. The pain didn't register, but the loss of coordination in his ruined wrist was obvious as he fumbled to reach the bomb. It went to one as he was finally able to lift it and he bit into the wire to pull it free as the timer went to zero. 

The bomb took out the whole floor and severed the cord Blake was sliding down. He was only a story above ground though so he was able to land without serious injury. He jogged to the other side of the street to dodge the falling glass and fiery debris. A piece did land close enough for him to light his cigar on and he strolled away down an alley. 

He had never liked his neighbors, and it was a small price to pay to save the world. Even Adrian would have had to agree with that.


End file.
